Ill Omens
by Amancirith Carangarien
Summary: What will become of the Fellowship when Imhotep appears in Middle-Earth to take the Ring? WIP AU x-over with The Mummy, newly re-written
1. Prologue

Ill Omens  
  
Amancirith Carangarien  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, and not making any money, either. More's the pity. *bg*   
  
Author's Notes: As we have now seen RotK twice, we feel much more able to write this fic. Inspiration has struck, and we've re-written what we already had. Important things have changed, so you need to re-read the prologue and first three chapters. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up soonish. *crosses fingers* One of our resolutions this year is to actually finish fic. Anyway, enjoy and please review. Flames will once again be used to heat our Hershey's Hugs hot chocolate. *eg*   
  
Prologue  
  
The moon slowly rose over the Egyptian sands, its light causing the sand to sparkle and glitter. The sky was cloudless, numerous stars shining down on the land of the ancient pharaohs. Everything was silent, until the light from one of those stars faded and then went out.   
  
Slowly the sand began to shift, falling away from a barren spot of desert which then began to sink. The sand continued to sink silently for a moment, then suddenly a spray of sand shot up out of the hollow and into the night. The sand was quickly followed by a man's hand reaching up from the desert, clawing at the empty air.   
  
A second hand joined the first, reaching in vain for something solid to grip. After another long moment a head finally broke through the sand, gasping for breath. The man struggled to pull himself out of the sand, but the loose grains constantly slipped and slid around him, making the task nearly impossible.   
  
By the time he managed to pull his upper body out of the sand the moon was high in the sky. The empty landscape was covered with a silver glow, nothing paying any attention to the struggling man. The night was almost half over when his legs finally broke through their prison of sand. He rose slowly to his feet, glancing around at the desert in wonder. He looked down at his bare chest, smiling when he saw that it was whole and unblemished. There was not even a faint scar from the mortal wound he had received at Hamunaptra.   
  
Imhotep was unsure of just what had awakened him, but quickly realized that it didn't matter. He glanced across the desert, his lips curling up in a smile when he saw the small pyramid in the distance. He began walking towards it, shivering absently in the chill night air. As he walked he tried to figure out where he was, but he was unfamiliar with this part of Egypt.   
  
It was nearly sunrise by the time he reached the small pyramid. He slowly walked around it, looking for any symbols that would tell him where he was. He had nearly finished a complete circle when he noticed the small symbols written around the arch of a doorway. He cocked his head as he read them, then a smile twisted his lips. The writings on the arch told of an ancient war, and of an object of great power.   
  
"Within these walls is the account of the War of the Ring. Take heed to the lessons of the past, lest the evil return to enslave the world."   
  
Imhotep glanced at the top of the doorway and could just make out a few more symbols. His smile widened as he read them. This could be what he needed.   
  
And the words at the top of the doorway read: "One Ring to rule them all..."   
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter One

Ill Omens  
  
Amancirith Carangarien  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, and not making any money, either. More's the pity. *bg*   
  
Chapter One  
  
"Fly, you fools!" The hissed words echoed through the cavern in the silence before Gandalf fell. It was only Boromir's quick reflexes that kept Frodo from lunging after the wizard and falling to his own death. He picked the Halfling up and followed Legolas up the stairs toward freedom, herding the other Hobbits in front of him. And as they ran, Aragorn took one last look over his shoulder at the broken bridge that had claimed Gandalf's life.   
  
The eight remaining members of the Fellowship moved as quickly as was safe through Moria, all of them almost desperate to see sunlight again, even Gimli. With the death and destruction that the Fellowship had seen, the mines had lost most of their magic for the dwarf.   
  
The instant they left the darkness of Moria behind and emerged into the light, the four Hobbits dropped to the ground, trying desperately to catch their breath. They kept their eyes firmly fixed on anything other than the mines that they had just escaped, all four fighting back tears of grief.   
  
Despite this, they were only allowed a moment's rest. Aragorn had them back on their feet and walking almost before they realized it, denying Boromir's request that they all be given a moment to grieve. Merry jogged over to the Ranger, pulling on his cloak to get his attention and wiping at his red-rimmed eyes. "Can't we take a short break, Strider? Please?"   
  
Aragorn shook his head, dropping to a knee next to the exhausted Hobbit. "I'm sorry, Merry, but we must reach Lothlorien before nightfall. Once the sun sets these hills will be swarming with orcs."   
  
Merry sighed, but trudged over to Pippin to help pull the younger Hobbit to his feet. "Come on, Pip. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we get to sit down for a spell."   
  
And so the company moved on with Aragorn in the lead, followed closely by the Hobbits and Gimli. Boromir trailed behind the dwarf and Legolas followed slowly after the Man, his blue eyes constantly flitting around the landscape. Despite the fact that the Fellowship was so near to the woods of Lothlorien, the elf still felt a chill creeping up his spine.   
  
The closer they came to the Golden Wood the more anxious the blond elf became. Several times he had to stop himself from reaching back and gripping his bow. He thought that the feeling would leave him once they entered Lothlorien, but it only grew stronger. Legolas began to make his way towards the front of the company, finally deciding to speak of his feeling with Aragorn. But before he could reach the ranger the entire Fellowship was surrounded by blond elves, all wielding bows.   
  
Legolas found himself face to face with Haldir, an arrow pointed directly between his eyes. He thought about drawing his own bow, but quickly realized that it would be an exercise in futility. Instead, Legolas simply spread his empty hands in front of him, meeting Haldir's eyes passively. The elf of Lorien smiled faintly before lowering his bow and signaling the other elves to do the same.   
  
"Greetings, Greenleaf. Tell me, where was your mind wandering? I could have killed you before you even realized you were not alone."   
  
Legolas felt heat darken his cheeks, nearly reaching to his ears. He smiled gratefully at Aragorn as the Man smoothly slipped in front of him and faced Haldir.   
  
"We have come for help, Haldir of Lorien. We seek the protection of the Lady Galadriel."   
  
Haldir glanced at the rest of the Fellowship, his eyes resting the longest on Gimli. After a moment of silence he nodded, turning back the way he had come. "The Lady wishes to speak with you. Come; she is waiting."   
  
The other Lorien elves melted back into the trees as the nine followed Haldir, walking steadily further into the Golden Wood. By the time the sun began to set the Fellowship was standing before Galadriel and Celeborn. The four Hobbits looked up at the two golden elves in wonder, for a moment able to push aside their grief . Aragorn and Legolas were respectful and silent, but Boromir seemed to almost be in pain. He would not meet the Lady's eyes, his own fixed on some point near his feet.   
  
Galadriel looked over the Fellowship, her eyes coming to rest on Aragorn and Legolas. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Rest will be given to you here and you shall sleep in peace." She fell silent for a moment, allowing Haldir to lead six of the eight to their rooms. Once only Legolas and Aragorn remained, she spoke again.   
  
"Beware, Heir of Isildur. An evil comes that would rival the darkness of the Ring. He seeks for it, and you, and he shall soon have the power to use it." Galadriel's eyes then turned to regard Legolas. "He shall also seek for you, Prince of Mirkwood." She turned and walked away, her voice ringing in their minds. 'Come, and look into the mirror. You shall see the evil that you face.'   
  
Aragorn glanced over at Legolas, shrugging when he saw the questions in the elf's blue eyes. The corner of the elf's mouth turned up in a small smile and the two slowly walked after Galadriel. Soft singing filled the air of the Golden Wood but never seemed to touch the three as they walked. They came to a halt in front of a small stone basin into which the Lady poured water from the nearby spring.   
  
"Would you look into the mirror and see what shall come to pass? It is yet in the future, and so it may be possible to avoid this fate, but it was not shown to me how this may be."   
  
The Ranger met the blond archer's eyes and as one they looked down into the mirror. A faint mist covered the water, but quickly parted allowing them to see the flowing images. Aragorn gasped as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away from the image of a beaten and bloody Legolas chained to a stone wall. Others were also chained to the wall: a man with reddish-blond hair who much resembled Boromir, another blond who had the appearance of the Rohirrim, and a fiery-eyed woman.   
  
Then a man entered the image, dressed in a dark robe with a very familiar golden ring on a chain around his neck. He stalked fluidly toward the bound elf, stopping only a few feet in front of him. He began to speak, but the words were unfamiliar to the Ranger.   
  
Aragorn suddenly found his attention caught by something on the ground by the strange man's feet. His eyes widened when the lump moved, and his face grew pale when he realized that what he was seeing was a man. The air left his lungs when the man in the image raised his head to glare at the strange man. The man on the floor was him.   
  
He couldn't look away as the man reached and drew a sword, thrusting the blade through the heart of the Ranger's mirror image. At that moment, the image in the mirror suddenly darkened and the mist returned to the water. Aragorn looked over at Legolas to see the elf regarding him with wide and pain-filled eyes. Then they both turned to look at Galadriel.   
  
The Lady met their eyes, pain and sorrow mingled in hers. "I know what it is you saw, for it is also in my mind. I wish that it were not so, but this shall almost certainly come to pass."   
  
Legolas took a deep breath, forcing his voice and expression to a calmness that he did not feel. "Is there nothing we can do, Lady?"   
  
She clasped her hands behind her. "You must remain true, to the quest and to each other. No other path has been shown to me." She smiled at them sadly. "Now, go and rest. This evil can be dealt with on the morrow." Then she turned and walked away, leaving Legolas and Aragorn looking at each other in shared worry.   
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter Two

Ill Omens  
  
Amancirith Carangarien  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, and not making any money, either. More's the pity. *bg*   
  
Chapter Two  
  
A handful of sand suddenly fell on Rick's head, the dry grains slipping down the back of his shirt and sticking near the waistband of his pants. He rolled his eyes as he shook his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the irritating sand. He glanced up at the ledge above him where Evie was diligently working.   
  
"You think you could watch the sand, Evelyn? I'm getting kinda dusty down here."   
  
She poked her head over the edge, absently brushing back the dark hair that fell in her eyes. "But, Rick, there are such fascinating artifacts up here, just begging to be found. If the sand is bothering you, why don't you come up here and join me?"   
  
Before the American could speak, Evie had ducked back to her work. Rick sighed, but dutifully stood and moved to climb up to where Evie was. When he got there, he saw her reverently reaching for an ancient sword. She gently lifted the large blade, nearly dropping it when she felt its entire weight. She turned to Rick, an ecstatic smile on her face.   
  
"Look at this, Rick! It's in superb condition, but it's incredibly old. And look at these writings on the blade." She handed him the sword so that she could point. "That is a very, very old dialect. The oldest I've ever seen, in fact. It's so old that I can't even translate it."   
  
Rick shook his head at her excitement. "Well, any guesses on what it means?"   
  
Evie bit her lower lip and cocked her head to the side. "As far as I can tell, it's the sword's name. But I have no idea what the name might be."   
  
Rick arched an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. This sword's name is engraved on the blade? Why'd they want to do that, Evelyn?"   
  
"I'm not certain, Rick. It's quite typical for ancient swords to have been given names, and even for the name to be engraved on the sword, but it's usually on the hilt. I've only seen a few where it was written on the blade itself." She turned her back on him, reaching for something else. "And look at this ring. The detail is exquisite."   
  
The American let the point of the strange sword rest in the sand as he reached for the ring in Evie's hand. It was fairly large, with a bright green stone in the center and etchings that looked a lot like snakes twining around it. Suddenly his attention was caught by what the ring and sword had been resting in. "Evelyn, did you realize that this thing you're looking through looks a lot like a display case?"   
  
Her eyes widened and she turned her back on Rick to look for herself. After a moment she finally spoke, her voice filled with excitement. "You're right, Rick. I don't know why I didn't notice that myself." She reached up and brushed the sand off of what could have been a plaque above where the sword and ring had been resting. "See these glyphs? They're similar to the writing on the sword blade, only in a more modern dialect. It says, 'Here rests The Flame of the West, sword of the king.'" She glanced back at Rick. "I think we've really found something here. Whatever king this sword belonged to must have been extremely important."   
  
Rick sighed, running a hand through his sand-filled hair. "Yeah, as long as he doesn't come back from the dead and try to kill us like the last important guy we found did. There aren't any curses written around here, are there?"   
  
Evie absently shook her head. "No, there aren't any curses here. All that I can translate is speaking about the return of some great king who reunited the lands of men. But I can't translate any of the actual names or places, so I have no idea who it's referring to. It's all very frustrating."   
  
"I'm sure it is." He turned to look at the pictures on the walls, frowning when his eyes fixed on one in particular. He shifted so that he could see it better and cocked his head in confusion when the image remained the same. "Uh, Evie, since when did the ancient Egyptians have pointed ears?"   
  
She jerked her head up and looked back over her shoulder. "What on earth are you talking about, Rick? Pointed ears?"   
  
He pointed to the picture that had caught his attention. "It could just be my imagination, but it looks like this guy on the wall here has pointy ears. What do you make of that?"   
  
Evelyn gingerly moved over to where Rick was crouched and peered up at the figure. "You're right. I've never seen something like this before in all of my research. I can't even guess as to what it means."   
  
"What are you doing here?"   
  
Evie and Rick both whirled around, neither of them having heard anyone entering until the man behind them spoke. The American instantly had his guns out, but lowered them when he recognized the black-shrouded figure standing in the doorway. Rick holstered his pistols and rested his hands on his hips, all the while glaring at the intruder. He opened his mouth to speak, clamping it shut when Evie pushed past him.   
  
"Do you have any idea of what these writings on the walls over here say? The language is older than anything I've studied, and I can only make out a few words. And I'm not at all certain about those, either."   
  
Ardeth simply stared at Evelyn in silence for a moment before turning to Rick. "Is she always like this?"   
  
The American chuckled. "You have no idea. So, what are you doing in these parts? Shouldn't you be watching out for our mummy friend to make sure he doesn't decide to destroy the world again?"   
  
The Arab suddenly turned serious. "That is why I have come, my friend. Imhotep is awake, though I am not certain what woke the creature. He seeks for something that would make him much more dangerous than he had ever been before."   
  
Rick sighed, dropping down to sit in the sand and propping his head in his hands. "That's just great, Ardeth. What's old Imhotep after now?"   
  
"He is searching for a legendary ring, one that would give him enough power to conquer the entire world. This ring was destroyed long before the pyramids were built, but I am afraid that he has found a portal to take him back to retrieve it."   
  
Rick frowned, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. "Okay, let me get this straight. There used to be some sort of magic ring, and Imhotep's somehow gonna go back in time and get it? Is that what you're saying?"   
  
Ardeth nodded. "I realize that it is hard to believe, my friend, but it is the truth. And you are the only one who can stop him."   
  
The American glanced down, finally noticing how he had been absently playing with the ring that Evie had found. "Why is it that I'm always the only guy who can stop him? Why can't somebody else do it for a change?"   
  
"It is in your blood, my friend." Ardeth gestured toward the sword at Rick's feet and the ring he was still twisting around his finger. "This is your birthright, and it is your destiny. That is something that you will just have to accept, my friend."   
  
Rick sighed as he rose to his feet. "Fine. What do I have to do this time?"   
  
Ardeth smiled slightly. "You must go back and keep the creature from retrieving the ring."   
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter Three

Ill Omens  
  
Amancirith Carangarien  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own any of it, and not making any money, either. More's the pity. *bg*   
  
Chapter Three  
  
Aragorn and Legolas slowly made their way back to the rest of the Fellowship, both man and elf silent as they attempted to come to terms with what they had seen in the mirror. They had nearly reached the others when Legolas caught hold of the Ranger's arm and pulled them both to a halt.   
  
"Aragorn, I think that you should speak to Boromir tonight. The Ring whispers to him, and I fear he will falter if something is not done. We cannot afford to worry for him and this new evil as well."   
  
The man frowned. "And what words do I possess that can turn him from that path? I appreciate your faith in me, my friend, but I feel it is unwarranted."   
  
The elf shook his head, a small smile curling his lips. "Nay, Aragorn. You are the only one to whom Boromir would readily listen. The two of you are much alike beneath the surface. All that is needed, I believe, is for Boromir to know that he is not alone in this."   
  
Aragorn sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "I suppose that you are correct, my friend. The last thing that any of us needs is to feel ourselves alone with no one to turn to. And if you believe that I can somehow give this comfort to Boromir, then I shall certainly try."   
  
"And a fine opportunity arrives, Aragorn." Legolas glanced pointedly back over his shoulder to where Boromir was slowly approaching them, the expression on his face one of mingled pain and fatigue. "We shall discuss the other matter in the morning, as the Lady suggested." And with those words the elf practically melted into the woods, leaving the two men alone.   
  
They simply looked at each other in silence for a moment before Boromir sighed, leaning back against a tree and sliding to the ground. His clasped hands dangled between his knees, and he refused to look up as Aragorn quietly sat beside him. After yet another long moment spent in silence, Boromir finally began to softly speak.   
  
"Have you ever seen the White City, Aragorn? It is completely different from an Elven city, but no less glorious. And I fear that by the time I return, my beautiful city will be in ruins."   
  
Aragorn closed his eyes, trying to will himself to find the words that Boromir needed to hear. When no great words of wisdom appeared, he sighed. "I have seen the White City, Boromir, though that was long ago. And I have no doubt that we shall both see it again in its glory."   
  
Boromir finally looked up, his green eyes bleak. "I wish that I had your certainty, Aragorn. But I fear that I have lost all hope."   
  
The Ranger laid a comforting hand on Boromir's shoulder, smiling slightly when the other man accepted the contact. "Nay, Boromir. Hope is not lost. The Ring is merely clouding your vision." Aragorn felt the shoulder under his hand tense and quickly continued speaking. "It does the same to all of us, Boromir."   
  
The Steward shook his head. "The Ring does not seem to affect the little ones except for Frodo who carries it; Legolas and Gimli are evidently immune, as are you."   
  
Aragorn chuckled dryly. "No, Boromir, I am not immune to the Ring's whispers. Late at night I can hear it calling me, telling me that only with its aid will I be able to overcome the weakness of my blood. That it can give me the lady Arwen for eternity." His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, only just loud enough for Boromir to hear. "It tells me that none of us shall survive this quest without it, and that I shall have to watch all of you fall into darkness before I am taken as well."   
  
Silence fell in the wake of Aragorn's confession, though it was more comfortable than most silences between the pair had been previously. After a while, Boromir turned back to Aragorn, a slight smile curling his lips. "I understand that the elves called you Estel, their word for hope." He waited for Aragorn to nod before he continued. "Then you were correct when you said that not all hope was lost. And perhaps, as you are the company's hope, I might be yours."   
  
The Ranger cocked his head to the side, considering the Steward's words. Then he smiled and clapped Boromir on the shoulder. "It would be fitting, would it not, for the Sons of Gondor to hold one another's hope on this quest? Hereafter, we both are Estel, and no more shall hope flee from us." The smile remained on Aragorn's face even as his demeanor became more serious. "If the Ring whispers to you again, you will speak of it to me, will you not?"   
  
Boromir nodded, his expression far calmer than it had been since before the Fellowship had departed from Rivendell. "As you will with me, my brother."   
  
Aragorn extended his hand, but Boromir grasped his forearm instead in a gesture reserved for comrades-in-arms. The Ranger smiled, sealing their agreement with both gesture and words. "My brother."   
  
TBC 


End file.
